Once, quite early in our relationship, we came across a story about a couple who committed suicide in an unusual manner. They took the back window out of a pick up truck, looped a rope around a tree and then fastened either end to each of their necks. One of them sat in the driver’s seat and one in the passenger. Then the driver punched it; the truck lurched forward, snapping both their heads off.
We found this story fascinating. We were in awe of their ingenuity, their sheer determination, and the showmanship involved in the act.
After the stroke, it feels as though that’s where we are: in the truck with the engine idling, one end of the rope around each of our necks. However, I intend to escape the noose before he hits the accelerator. When he decides to go, he’s going alone.